More Than Meets the Eye
by ArcaneShinigami
Summary: Claire is a popular cheerleading 12th grader with the ability to heal; on her first day back in school she meets a man who interests her in ways that could later prove to be dangerous. Sylar/Claire, rated T just in case. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own NBC's Heroes. I wish I did, but I really don't.**

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**Chapter 1: First Day**

Odessa, Texas. Hot and humid; nobodies favorite place to live during the summer. But in spring, it was a wonderful place to live. Not too cold like other places, just cool enough for someone to see their breath in the early morning air, or feel the tingle of a swift breeze as it brushes past their cheek on a walk through the park.

One of the families that lived their was the Bennett's; a family consisting of a working father, an at home, dog crazed mother, teenage son, and teenage daughter. The father's name was Noah, mother's name was Sandra, sons name was Lyel, and the daughters name was Claire.

Just ending her junior year in high school, Claire was the captain of her cheerleading squad and one of the most popular girls in her school. She enjoyed the busyness of her popularity and everything that came along with it. Not only was she socially high-class at school, she was also one of the smartest students there. Her attitude, grades, and social life were always on top of things.

Even though her life seemed so interestingly perfect, there was one thing that set her apart from the rest; even more so than her intelligence. One day while working on her cheers in the back yard, Claire did a front flip and landed hard on a root sticking up out of the ground, which broke her arm. As soon as she went to look at it and acess the damage, her pain started to whither away, along with the damage on her arm.

Claire's unique and distinct ability has her classified as a very important and different subculture of life. Though she radiated happiness on a daily schedule, she kept the sadness of not knowing what to do with herself in her heart. She was indestructable to virtually anything -- but what good was the ability if she didn't have a purpose for it?

As far as she knew she couldn't tell her family of the problems she faced. Not one of them would have understood; or at least that's what she imagined the case to be. She felt like an absolute freak. There wasn't a day that went by that she wasn't trying some new and reckless way to get herself killed. Each time ended the same way; her body would heal itself like new in no time at all.

All of the friends that Claire had at school were nothing but useless, fickle, and skin-deep relationships. Almost as soon as she attained her ability did she start to realize all of this, all of the truth that so much in her life was vain, so much in her life a folly. Everything she did, everything she achieved meant nothing in the long run.

Her father, Noah, was a very compassionate man; moreso than they gave him credit for. Though he had his moments, most of the time he was the most loveing father a child could ask for. Not only did he dote upon his daughter more often than he should, he also kept her close, embraced her often. He did more for her than her biological father ever had, or ever would.

Summer had passed quickly with nothing to do and nowhere to be. It was soon the beginning of her senior year at school, which she hoped would be a year of change and discovery.

Driving the baby blue voltswagon bug that her parents got her over the summer, Claire pulled up just in time at the busy school to get a nice parking spot near the front. She stepped out, grabbed her things, then made her way to the entrance.

Just as she was reaching for the handle to open the main entrance door, a hand appeared in front of her, pulling the door open swifter than her eyes could catch. She blinked, then turned her face up to see who this generous and speedy person could be.

A guy about her age smiled, "Hey." motioning for her to walk in. She did so, then turned back to see him walk in behind her, "Hi." she smiled back politely.

He extended his hand as they walked, "My names James, I'm new here."

She slowed to shake his hand, "Oh? Well, welcome." trying to make the conversation short.

"Where's your home room?" he asked, still following her.

She looked down at her paper, "Umm, 204 with Mr. Milferd."

He grinned, seemingly surprised, "Oh yeah? Me too. Looks like we're class-buddies."

She mentally rolled her eyes, keeping a stable visage, "Right, _class-buddies_."

Just then the doorway to her class came into view. She sped up her pace, walking past him, then walked in and found a spot right in the middle of class. Her favorite spot.

James made his way to a spot behind her. She assumed if it hadn't been for her other friends, the cheerleaders, sitting on either side of her, James would have taken one of those spots. Sitting behind her still seemed to keep her close; or at least that's what she was assuming.

A few minutes later, the school bell rang and their teacher walked in. A man in his late fourties, short salt-and-pepper hair with round Harry Potter looking glasses, Mr. Milferd seemed to suit his name well. He smiled contently at the class, "Hello everyone, welcome to the 12th grade."

Claire pulled out her notebook, ready to take down as much information as possible; just like she always had. It helped her visualize everything she had to do throughout the semesters.

James watched her actions from behind, taking in her every movement. She could practically feel his eyes borrowing their way into her back. Half of her wanted to turn around and ask him what his problem was, the other half realized he was just another nerd begging for attention, which she obviously wan't going to give him the pleasure of doing.

Class continued as Mr. Milferd explained to them how things would go, then started his first speech on Marine Biology.

The next few classes were smooth going. Nothing was too difficult or showed that it would have problems for her in the near future. Claire had finished most of her hard classes in the three previous years of high school, so all that was left was a few electives, Marine Biology, and an art class that she had been pushing off till the very end.

The past three years she had always had someone to sit by at lunch time. This year she still had the same people to sit by, but it was completely different. When she took her rightful spot as captain of the cheerleaders she had no choice but to sit in the middle of all those girls. She used to love all the attention, used to love talking with them, but now...it all seemed so shallow.

She thought, perhaps, that she was just growing up and this was a sign of that.

The new kid, James, found her during lunch. He walked straight up to the table, as if he was blind to the social rules that stood so firm in every highschool, and stood there like he was expecting an invitation to sit. One of her eyebrows perked up in response to his presence. He just continued to smile like an innocent child.

Claired rolled her eyes, pulling herself out from the bench. She walked up to him, grabbed his shirt sleeve and dragged him five feet away. Her jaw clenched as she tried to be polite, "What's your problem?"

He furrowed his brow, dumbly confused, "What do you mean? Can't I sit there?"

She looked at him in awe, "Are you serious? Hello! Don't you understand how school works? You're obviously not popular so you can't sit there. Popular kids will bite your head off then spit it out in the dirt, just before they stomp all over your outcasted corpse."

He smirked, "You're a little dramatic there, Claire."

Her hair bristled as she felt a blush rise to her cheeks, "Just...leave us alone okay? You're not part of the populars. It's your first day...go find a new group to join, alright?" and with that, stormed back to her table, fixing her skirt as she sat and resumed meaningless conversation.

James just smirked again as he watched her do so, seemingly untouched by her sarcasm and hurtful attitude. He sighed and shrugged, then found a table with a few obviously nerdy kids and sat, starting conversation with them instead.

Claire felt bad; honestly she did. It's just that she knew he would get torn apart if he tried to sit in that group. She didn't want the poor kid getting eaten alive like that; he would appreciate it later.

Another small elective class went by and Claire found that it was finally time for the last class of the day, the one she had pushed off for so long that she dreaded it's nearing; art.

It's not like she hated art, nor did she artists, it's just that she always felt she never even had a chance at it. She couldn't find one artistic bone in her body throughout her entire life, so she automatically set into her mind that she couldn't do it. She should know -- she has broken almost every single one.

Shuffling her feet down the hallway, she found the art room and slowly peeked her head inside. A few students were already in there, sitting on stools in front of large easles, their pants and pencils only a few feet away.

Not seeing the teacher, she found it a perfect opportunity to make her way in. Her original thought was to sit in the back of the class, but with how each easle was set up, not one person was in the back or the middle -- everyone was up front.

She walked over to an easle near the window; if she had to be in a class she didn't enjoy, at least she would get the window seat.

Looking over to how everyone had set up their materials, she did the same thing, occasionally glancing at the students to see if they were starting any drawings before her.

While setting up her things she didn't even notice as a stronger presence drifted into the room and made it's way to the front near the biggest art board and desk. As soon as a loud and obvious throat-clearing cough was made, her face snapped up to see who it was.

The man who had grabbed his class' attention smiled lightly, pushing square rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He nodded, as to give them his consent, "Everyone, welcome." He walked slowly in a circle around the room, starting on the opposite side of Claire.

"I realize a lot of you don't like art, don't...understand it. That's perfectly fine." He smiled as he walked past two girl students who were acting flirty -- Claire picked them out as two of her 'friends' who she knew would do anything to get a good grade.

"Just do me a favor," he paused, finally reaching Claire, bringing his gaze to her face, "Don't give up on it too easily." A small smirk played on his full lips, hiding under his five-o-clock shadow that fit his defined chin so perfectly.

Time seemed to halt as he kept the gaze for a few nano-seconds too long. Her breath hitched just as he turned away and picked back up on his speech, "There's a lot for you all to learn. It's all very wonderful knowledge. For those of you that don't understand art in it's simplicity, if it's easier for you, think of it as another word-riddled class. Think of this...as a task to conquer. It will help."

Claire hid behind her easle, trying to breathe steadily again as her heart thumped loudly in her ears. She closed her eyes, desperate to keep cool in this circumstance.

Not once had she ever seen or met a teacher like him. Not once has she ever found a teacher attractive in any way, shape, or form. They've all been old, or weird, or just plain gross. Some of them had hit on her in small ways, none dangerous enough to be called on, so she never thought much of it. This teacher was different. She could tell right away that there was more to him then meets the eye.

"So," her new, interesting teacher smiled at his class, "You can call me Mr. Grey. Everyone, pull out your pencils."

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**So Heroes has become my biggest fascination as of late. I just finished all the seasons and am thoroughly excited for the next season in September. Anyone out there love it? Well I guess you do if you're reading this.**

**My favorite characters are Peter, Sylar, and Claire. But my favorite fanpairing (AND CANON SOON, CANON SOON!) is Claire/Sylar. Also known as Sylaire. I'm really hoping this story will turn out. Stick with me and we'll see where it goes! **

**Reviews are amazingly appreciated!!!!!!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: NBC Heroes is amazing, but I do not own it. =/**

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**Chapter 2: Confusion**

"I can't believe this!" Claire sat in her bug, beating her head against the seat cushion. Nobody else was with her -- it was time to rant to herself aloud.

She gripped at the steering while tightly, fuming as her thoughts went on. "So I hate art, right? Why do I want to go back to art class so badly now?" she mumbled a curse under her breath as she stuck the keys in the ignition.

It had been two hours since art class but she still couldn't get over the impact her new teacher had on her. He was exactly the person she never expected to meet; someone who confused and interested her with just one glance. Someone who drew her in with the serious tone of his eyes, the subtle flicker of arrogance in his smile. The way he carried himself practically _screamed_ danger, even though he was a teacher, he held such a mysterious air that caught her attention like a moth to the flame.

She wanted so badly, despite herself, to know everything about him. All she knew was the way he acted, that he was an art teacher, and he went by Mr. Grey. She found it hard to believe that he was old enough to be called by something so..._old sounding_. He looked like he was in his late twenties at most.

Even though she had just finished cheerleading practice, she still couldn't get him out of her head. Two hours later and he was still there, haunting her thoughts.

Just before she started the engine, her attention was caught by two people walking out of the front doors of the school. It was some other teacher and...Mr. Grey. Her heart rate sped as she watched the two men converse; she felt like a creeper for watching them.

Though she couldn't hear anything they were saying, she could see that whatever it was they were talking about was a very light and hearty subject. She watched as Mr. Grey took in a big laugh then started to walk away, waving politely back at his co-worker. He walked over to a small, black and slightly rusted pick-up truck, opened the door then slid in.

At that point Claire decided to lay low and wait till he pulled out to make her way home. She watched as he took off his glasses, put them in a case, then ruffled his hair in the mirror. She heard the trucks engine come to life, and just like that, he was pulling out of the parking lot and down the street.

She sighed, letting air reach her starved lungs after accidentally forgetting to breathe.

The drive home was short; school was only ten minutes away. She used her keys to get in the house and smiled as she saw her mom cooking. "Hey mom." putting her bag on the furnished counter.

Her mother smiled sweetly, "Hey honey, how was your first day?"

She shrugged, trying to push back all the thoughts of her fascinating art teacher, "Fine. It was very...first-day like."

Sandra looked down at the onion she was cutting, "Well I'm sure you'll do great this year. You catch on to routine pretty quickly." she paused to put the finely diced onions into a boiling pot of soup, "So nothin' new?" she asked, finally looking up to meet Claire's eyes.

"Uhh," she shook her head, "Nope, nothing. Normal. Well, I guess there was this new kid...but, nothing else." Internally she cringed at the terrible lie.

Just then she saw her father walk out of his office. She smiled and ran up to him, giving him a big teddy-bear-hug. "Hi daddy." she grinned up at him.

He smiled back, "How are you doing? How was school?"

She shrugged, still hugging him, "Fine. How was your day?"

He shrugged, copying her, "Just fine."

-----

The next day felt promising, somehow she was able to push the mysterious teacher out of her mind and get to sleep. She packed her school bag and dressed for the day. Her outfit comprised of a black pleated half-skirt and white collared, button up shirt and 4-inch black heels. Prim and proper.

Not only was she dressed for school but also for after school when she would stop by a few places and apply for a job. Something small but sophisticated, like a lawyers office where she could type up papers and make phone calls, or a place like her fathers paper company where she could help out around the offices.

First off she had to get through another school day. Another day of boring things she either knew or learned quickly; all except for art. Though she hoped to get into that classroom and see Mr. Grey, she also wanted to hide from him. She was afraid of his all-seeing gaze, those powerful, magnificent and brooding eyes.

The day flew by quicker than it should until it reached lunch time yet again. Just as the day before, the new kid, James, approached her at the populars table. She eyed him suspisciously, daring him to come further. He found an empty area that had been left by a cheerleader who went to go put on her face, and sat down. Right across from Claire.

A few of the cheerleaders stopped their chattering and eating of a 200 calorie meals to look at the intruder. Their finely plucked eyebrows rose in a haughty air, one of the stuck up bleached out blondes spoke first, "What are _you _doing here at _our _table?"

James picked up his sloppy joe and shrugged, "Sitting." then took a bite.

The cheerleaders gasped, in shock at his simple response. "You need to leave. You don't belong here." Claire whispered, leaning across the table.

Swallowing his third bite, James leaned over to whisper right back at her, "Neither do you, Claire." smirking lightly as he did so.

Her mouth gaped lightly, "What right do you have..." her voice low.

Just then James picked up his things, "See yah later, cheerleaders."

She glared at him as he walked away, stunned at his bold attitude and sense of knowing who she was. After all, she hardly knew him. What could he possibly know about her? She just shrugged it off and continued to eat.

A little while later she was sitting on her stool in art class, just waiting for Mr. Grey to get there. She had done well all day, not thinking of him or worrying about seeing him again, until she entered Art class and realized he would be there.

A thought reached her mind, _"Why am I so nervous? He's just a teacher, right? I have nothing to prove, nothing to worry about. Just concentrate on the stupid colors and ignore , that's what I'll do."_

Just like the day before, Mr. Grey managed to someone sneak in without anyone noticing. His voice pierced her thoughts, "Welcome back. I see you all returned, none too afraid to resume art it seems." then snickered at his own joke. "Alright, I want you to start by pulling out your charcoal," he waited till they did so, then resumed, "And draw a still life in the room. It can be a chair, a table, the easle, the blackboard, a pencil box, the flower pot, whatever you see. Don't focus on making it perfect...just..." he chewed at his lower lip, thinking of a way to explain it, "Just draw what you feel in it. Draw how the energy moves around it, how it's shaped, without using difinity."

Claire's eyebrows furrowed, _"That's not fair."_ she thought, _"I completely understood what he just said." _She looked at a table situated in the middle of the room; it was covered in random objects that Mr. Grey had obviously placed there for them to draw. Her piece of charcoal ran elegantly, yet messy, against the large paper in front of her. It wasn't long till her porcelain hands were stained black from the charcoal.

She found herself getting lost in it, in the feeling of creating something on paper from shapes and lines. As she did so, she tried to convince herself that she hated it.

Unbenounced to her, Mr. Grey was walking slowly around the room, watching his students progress. She didn't notice as he came over and stood behind her, gazing at her drawing from over her shoulder.

Her concentration stayed on the objects situated on the table in front of her. A few minutes later she stopped and gazed at her work. Her mouth gaped as she breathed out a, "Wow..."

Mr. Grey chuckled softly behind her, "I see you've discovered you actually have an artistic talent."

She nearly jumped, a shockwave of surprise running down her spine. Turning her head slightly to look back at him, "Oh, n-no it's nothing. I don't really know what I'm doing." Her heart jumped into her throat.

He shook his head, "That's not true, Claire. For someone who's never liked or tried art you're quite talented. Kudos." he smiled knowingly.

She just looked back to the page in front of her, "Thanks..." trying to push away her nervous composure.

Suddenly his head was looming near hers, from behind her he leaned closer over her shoulder. "Hmm," she could pracitcally feel his throat vibratting. "I think..." he paused, reaching around her to grab right hand which held the charcoal, "You could add a bit of volume here." he lifted her hand, using it as his own tool to show her how to appropriately apply the right amount of depth.

They scratched at the paper a few times before he drew back, letting go of her, stepping a foot away. He smiled contently but she saw a hint of...something different in his face. "There you go." he nodded then walked away swiftly to his desk, which he sat at with his brow furrowed.

She watched him reach into a drawer, pull out a piece of paper then concentrate on writing something down. He sat there for what seemed like forever, writing only God knows what.

Claire suddenly felt angry. Why did he do that? Why was he so...touchy, then pulled away like she was poisonous? She groaned internally, ready to leave class and get away from him as soon as possible. Her cheeks were red, her eyebrows furrowed.

The clock soon reached 3:30 and everyone started to pick up their things and leave. She did just that, picked up her bag, glared at the teacher still writing at his desk, then practically ran out the door.

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**Baw, poor confused Claire. Mr. Grey is being confusing. Baw.**

**I'm actually quite happy with writing Sylaire fiction. Very awesome couple, my favorite. Glad to see so many other people like it too! Continue to review and I will continue to write. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own NBC's Heroes. If I did, some things might be a little different.**

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Chapter 3: Caught

She had already been to four different stops; apparently _nobody_ was hiring. She felt that unlikely and came to the assumption that today just wasn't her day. By the time she was finished looking, having given up on her search for at least a while, it was already reaching later into the evening.

She knew her dad would question her as soon as she stepped in the door. Taking a deep, soothing and steadying breath, Claire unlocked the front door and went inside her house.

A slight rustling of paper drew her attention to the living room. She bit her lip, walking slowly towards her father, who was reading something in a magazine. Standing beside his chair she gave the most pitiful face she could muster, "Hi daddy."

He didn't look at her. "Claire, you know what time it is." his voice as patronizing as ever.

She sighed, "Yes I know, I'm sorry, it's just--"

"Ten is your curfew, young lady." he said, still not looking up at her.

"But daddy, I was out looking for work!" she whined.

He set the magazine down and peered up at her, "Till this late? Nobody is open this late."

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, before opening them to look directly at her fathers face. "I took a drive afterwards, to clear my head." Better honest than not.

One of his eyebrows perked up, "Were you with a boy..."

Her eyes widened, "No! No, no no no! There's no boy! It's just I was feeling upset about the job hunting and needed to relax."

Mr. Bennett, always the one who was able to hide his feelings so well. "Alright, just watch yourself next time, be more alert and aware of the time."

She nodded, "Yessir. Good night, daddy." then leaned down to hug him, before turning and heading upstairs to her room.

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Claire let herself relax through the next few days. Her body still tensed whenever Mr. Grey walked in the classroom, but she managed to turn her thoughts and reaction to anger or dismisal instead of infatuation or intrest.

It soon was two weeks later. Claire had found a job working at a small lawfirm office in town; there she typed up papers, took phone calls, and sorted files. Not entirely by herself, but under another more experienced lady who taught her as they went along.

The job payed well. It gave her enough money to help with the gas and insurance that her parents had oh so kindly payed for almost two years.

One Friday morning, Claire was getting ready for school, when she decided to call up her friend Leesha. A few rings later, a perky voice sounded, "Hello?"

"Hey Leesh, it's Claire."

"Ohh hey Claire, what's up? Getting ready for school?"

"Yeah, sure am. Um, hey I was wondering..." she paused, "You want to hang out after school? I feel like I haven't had any girl time lately, other than cheerleading practice. Plus I don't have work tonight."

"Yeah! That sounds like a good idea, it's totally been_ way _too long since we chilled. What were you thinking of doing?"

"Well, I looked online and saw a good moving that just came out. We could go see that."

"Hmm. Sure, yep, I'm up for anything! So, after school then?"

Claire smiled, "Yeah, after school. See you soon. Bye."

"Bye!" _Click_.

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Her day went by in a furious speed. In fact, she noticed, that it seemed a lot was going by so quickly lately. It had already been almost three weeks since her senior year started...since she met Mr. Grey.

Though he still plagued her thoughts from time to time, she managed to get by.

On the other hand, the new kid James had been around quite frequently. He still made random stops to the cheerleaders lunch table, apparently unaware of their constant glares and accusations. She had made small talk with him during lunch and a few times in the hallway and came to the conclusion that he was actually a nice guy. If it had been a different world, she would have been his friend.

Art class was nearly over when Claire realized Mr. Grey had left the room for more than twenty minutes. It wasn't uncommon for a teacher to dismiss himself, but for so long? She decided to take a bathroom break and head into the hallway, maybe _accidentally_ run into him on the way there.

Stepping out the door, she peered side to side at the vacant hallways. Nobody was there, not a soul. Claire sighed as she walked towards the girls bathroom, a good two halls down.

After using the restroom she came out and stopped dead in her tracks. Mr. Grey was standing right in front of her, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows furrowed.

Her eyes widened, "U-Um..."

He just looked down at her, seemingly aggravated or...mad? She could only be afraid of his new composure.

"What are you doing out there?" he asked quickly, "You didn't get my permission to be out here, Ms. Bennett."

_Oh crap, he's calling me by my last name, I'm toast._ "I uh, I had to use the bathroom. You weren't in the room so I couldn't ask.." she mumbled, trying to hide her fear.

He loomed over her, "You should have waited." his words like a steel vice around her mind.

She shuddered, "I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath in through his nose, then let it out slowly. His arms unfolded and she watched him start to loosen up again. A hand rose to his forehead, which he squeezed on each side, furrowing his brow, "And I'm sorry I snapped at you, I have a bad headache."

"Is that why you left the classroom?" she dared to ask, hoping he wouldn't get mad.

He seemed to be in thought for a moment, "...Yes. That's why." then sighed, "Alright, time to get back to class and grab your things. The bell is about to ring."

She nodded, "Yessir." then walked swiftly towards the art class, leaving Mr. Grey in her wake.

She hoped he wasn't close behind her; as soon as she got into the room, she noticed he wasn't and felt ease slip through her body.

He had been so frightening back in the hallway. She knew he was different, knew he was strange, but didn't expect such an overwhelmingly dark demeanor to take over. For all she knew, he could normally be like that, and only be playing _good boy _as a teacher. She hoped not at least.

The bell rang. Claire grabbed her bag and once again darted away, this time in the direction of her car. She stuck the keys in the ignition and backed out, ready to get to the mall. Her friend Leesha probably wouldn't be there for another fourty-five minutes, that gave her time to get something to eat before they saw the movie.

Just as she was ordering a 6-inch sub from the Food Court's Subway, something tapped her shoulder. She turned around and half smiled, "Oh, hey James."

He smiled awkwardly back, seeming a little flustered, "What are you up to?"

She shrugged, grabbing her platter of food, "Just eating and waiting on my friend to get here; we're going to a movie."

"Oh?" he paused, following her to a table, where they both sat, "That's neat."

She rose an eyebrow, not buying his attitude, "Is something wrong, James? You're acting all flustered." It was weird enough he found her at the mall, let alone was acting like he'd done something wrong.

"Well," he fiddled with his jacket sleeve, "I just over heard something in the hallway today, kinda freaked me out, thought you should know."

She took a sip of her soda, internally rolling her eyes; after all, gossip happened all the time. Still she hoped to pity the poor soul, "Well what is it? What doofus was saying something about me this time?"

"Actually, it was a teacher." he mumbled.

Her eyes widened in shock, "What?! Who?!"

"Um, y'know how you were coming out of the bathroom today and ran into Mr. Grey from your art class?" he asked, testing the waters.

She nodded, pushing behind the question of 'how did you know that?' for a later conversation.

"Well after you left, I saw him lean against one of the lockers and bang his head a few times against it. He seemed aggravated with himself, mumbling things I couldn't understand, until finally he said something I could make out. He said,_ 'I really have to stop this, it's getting harder to avoid her, just making me more frusterated. I'm going to have to say something, approach her, with anything! I can't take it anymore!'_"

Claire couldn't believe her ears; was she really hearing all this? "If you're making this up, I swear to all that is--"

"I'm not! I swear! And usually I wouldn't say anything but...I felt like...since we're friends now," he said softly, "I should...make sure I tell you things I hear that are spoken about you. Especially if it's for your own safety, we can't let you be around him anymore."

Immediately she felt a jolt of energy shoot through her; she had to put the brakes on. "Whoa there, this could be some kind of...misconception. Who knows? Maybe he was talking about someone else? Or maybe he's just hiding the fact that I really suck at art and he is afraid to tell me that I'm going to fail." It sounded nice anyway, convincing.

James cringed, "I really don't think that's what he meant, but..." he sighed, "If you wanna give him the benefit of the doubt, then it's up to you. But! If he ever tries anything, you tell somebody, okay?"

Claire furrowed her brows, "Geeze I'm not a kid, I know that. Stop acting like you know me so well, you barely do y'know."

Before James could protest, Leesha came up to the table, glaring lightly at him. "Claire what is he doing here?"

She blinked, "I uh, he was..."

"I was just leaving. Bye Claire." he stood, nodding at her and her friend, then swiftly walked away in a different direction.

Leesha took his spot by the table, "What was _that_ about? Some nerd thing I bet."

Claire sighed, "It's okay he was just asking me about homework for our class." What more could she do but lie? It would have sounded even stranger to tell her what was really going on.

-------------------

After the movie ended, Leesha told Claire that she had to meet up with another one of their friends and work on some homework together. Claire let her go, knowing full well that was code for _'I have a date'_.

It was only a little after seven, she didn't need to be home for another two and a half hours. Taking this time in mind, Claire decided to drive down to the local playground area. It was the best place to sit down and look up at the stars.

Slipping out of her flip flops, she dug her toes in the cool, white sand, as she swung slowly on the playground swing. The air, though it was just the end of summer, was crisp that night. She could feel a tingle of fall coming to meet her skin.

Claire sighed contently as she picked up the pace on the swing, going a little bit higher every few minutes. The stars kept her vision locked, concentrated, since the sky was practically open other than a few stray, listless clouds.

Outside of her vision, another person wandered into the area, his steps light and unheard. He watched as the young woman enjoyed her lonely company, thinking on whether he should approach her or not. Would it freak her out to talk to me now of all times? In a park at seven thirty at night? In the dark? With a man who is more than ten years older than her? Me? A killer?

After debating with himself and weighing the options, Mr. Grey decided this wasn't the best time for him to talk with her, nor was he brave enough to do so anyway. He turned on his heel and began walking towards the parking lot.

Just a few steps later her soft voice called out, "Mr. Grey? Is that you?"

He froze, dead in his tracks. Scared to even turn around, more in fear of scaring her. He stayed silent for a few seconds before putting on a kind smile and finally turning to meet her gaze. "Yes, hello Ms. Bennett."

She was only two or three yards away, "What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping off the swing, slowly walking forward.

He gulped, _Looks like it can't be avoided_, "I was just coming to look at the stars, then I saw you and figured you were doing the same thing. Just letting you have your privacy."

He nodded and was about to walk away when she stopped him with her voice, "No wait, it's okay. I can share a playground." she smiled.

His voice shook a little, "You sure? I don't mind leaving."

She shook her head, "No it's fine, come on, the sand actually feels pretty nice."

He gushed internally at her sweet smile. Being overly obvious of every detail made things harder; he couldn't help but notice the way the full moon made her blonde hair practically sparkle, or the way her flesh seemed to illuminate before him like an angels.

He just nodded again in response and walked forward, slipping his shoes off to let the sand between his toes. He sighed contently, sitting on one of the swings. She too came back and sat on the other swing, slowly moving once again.

Though there was silence between them, it didn't feel awkward at all. Claire found it to be peaceful, more so than sitting in the art room while she tried to make herself loathe him instead of being interested. Mr. Grey also found it more comfortable, a lot more than trying to resist his want to be around her.

Claire spoke first, "So Mr. Grey, how did you get into art?"

_She obviously asked out of politeness_, he assumed, thinking she had no interest at all. "Well, I kind of just...did it. There wasn't much thought, I just fell into it. I have always been bright in academics but couldn't find meaning in them. One time I was in New York and met a painter who..." he paused, mentally trying to prepare the right words, "...inspired me." He tried not to chuckle at his own wording, "Oh, and you can call me Gabriel. If you want."

"Inspired you?" she asked, seemingly convinced of his lie, "That's cool."

The creaking of the swings inturrupted conversation, taking over for what seemed like forever until Claire finished her thought, "And you can call me Claire instead of Ms. Bennett, please." then smiled lightly.

He laughed lightly, "Alright, Claire."

After another half an hour of little chattering of small things, Claire looked at the time. It wasn't exactly her curfew, but she wanted to get home early just to make her dad happy. "I'm sorry, I have to leave. Curfew and all." she stood, fixing her shirt.

He stood also, "That's fine, I have to be getting home as well. It was nice to get to know you a little better, Ms--...I mean, Claire."

She smirked, "You too...Gabriel." It felt so weird calling him by his first name.

Claire practically danced on her toes, "Alright, I'll see you Monday. Good night."

"Right, Monday. Good night." he tried his best to smile convincingly, keeping his heart rate at bay.

He watched as she started walking towards her car, only a few feet away from him before she snapped her head back, "Oh, wait I forgot to ask, how--" suddenly, because she was still walking as she spoke, Claire tripped over a log and fell hard on her right arm.

Gabriel's eyes widened, his feet carrying him over to her before his mind had time to register what had happened. He leaned down, "Claire, are you alright?" trying to help her up.

She pushed herself up with her left arm, groaning in pain as she got up. She looked down at her right arm, which she heard a snap coming from when she fell.

Both of their eyes widened. Hers from realizing that her right arm was recovering from a break right in front of her teacher, and him from seeing his student's arm heal right in front of him. He watched it snap back into place, the punctured skin now sealing. His mouth dropped, their eyes locked, "C-Claire...how did..." his voice was merely a whisper.

She, now completely healed, stood to her feet quickly. "I...have to go." then ran towards her car, getting into the drivers side, plugging in the keys, then pulling out as quickly as possible.

Gabriel stood and watched her drive away, to in shock to try and go after her.

He knew something was different about this girl, that's why he was so drawn to her from the very beginning. He just didn't know before that what it was. Now he did; she was one of them, someone with a power, someone special.

Usually he took the powers from those that were gifted, but this time he couldn't help but to feel a tear of guilt pang his stomach as he thought about stealing anything from her. Even though she apparently had the ability to heal, and even though that ability was something he craved like a wild animal to fresh meat, he almost couldn't bring himself to hunt her.

Balling his fists till the nails practically made his hands bleed, Gabriel battled inner torment on what to do about the situation.

It was time to go home and re-think everything he thought he knew.

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**Huzzah! You guys better be extremely happy with this fine, long piece of awesome. *wink* I gave you such a long chapter, lookie lookie! But oh there we go, I left a cliffie. It's not too bad of one though, right? I'm not too cruel, right? Right?**

**Truth be told I'm having a hard time trying to fit in any -evil- Gabriel, aka Sylar. There will be some, but...Idk. **

**Also I wanted to use this to say something to a reviewer who didn't have an account, thus I couldn't respond:**

**You were saying that in High School art classes that things aren't as advanced as how I wrote, that in High School art things are much simpler. Well I'm sorry, I'm homeschooled. I actually have no idea what a High school art class would be like. All I know is that I'm dual-enrolled at a College and in our Drawing 1 class that's what we did on our first day. Worked with charcoals. You say you're going after an art career, well so am I! *smiles* So we have something in common.**

**I apologize for any misconceptions that happened by my writing about something I don't know personally. A real "high school" is something I don't know about, just home school and college. **

**NOW for the good stuff. I hate to do this, but I feel it necessary. I won't be posting chapter 4 until I get some massive amount of reviews. Feel free to pick your own number for the word 'massive'. I'm not picky, I just adore the love. *grin***


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, if I did then Sylar and Claire would be together forever. Oh wait! Hah.**

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Chapter 4: Careful Grounds

To say that she was shocked would be an understandment; her teacher, and secret fascination, had just seen her broken arm heal itself in under ten seconds flat. She was more than shocked, she was _paralyzed_ with fear.

It was hard to concentrate on driving home as her thoughts raced on what had just happened. She was almost positive that Mr. Grey, Gabriel, would tell somebody about this. She couldn't think of any motive he would have, but she was positive he would tell. Claire had never told anybody of her ability for fear of what would happen when people find out.

She knew that nobody would understand, and now she had accidentally shown someone she barely knew.

Immediately her thoughts went to trying to figure out some way to convince him not to say anything. The only thing she could think of to trade for the information was...herself. Which she had too much dignity to do, she would never give herself away for that. But maybe he would trade for her work, or errands...he had to trade the info for something!

Claire groaned in desperation, "Why of all times? Why then? We were actually getting to know each other..." she cursed her strange ability.

Her house came into view. She parked, trying to settle her brain enough to be able to walk in and convince her parents that she had a _normal_ day. If that was possible.

"Hey hunny," her dad smiled from the kitchen table, where him and her mother were sitting. They looked happy.

She smiled back, "Hey." Immediately headed for the stairs.

"What, you're just going straight to bed?" her father asked, stopping her from retreating into her room.

She turned to face them and walked to the table, taking a seat in the middle of her parents, "Sorry, I figured you guys were talking or something."

He shrugged then looked at his wife, then back at her, "We were talking, but we're able to talk with you about it now too."

Claire's eyebrow perked up, "About what?"

"Well," he paused, folding his hands together, "We were talking about colleges for you. We were trying to think of what ones we could afford to help you with after you graduate this year. Of course we still want you to pick one that _you _like."

She sighed in relief, "Oh, yeah, I haven't really thought about it too much."

"Have you decided what sort of career you would like to pursue?" he asked.

"Yeah hunny, what are you int'rested in?" Sandra piqued into the conversation, petting her dog Mr. Muggles and smiling contently.

Claire bit her lip in thought, "I...don't...really know for sure yet. But I'll still be thinking about it, don't worry."

"That's fine." her dad smiled kindly, "Just keep thinking about it okay? Now you go ahead off to bed, that's all we wanted to say."

Claire stood, ready to get into her room, "Right, good night you guys."

"Night hun." "Night Claire-bear."

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Only ten minutes away on the other side of town, Gabriel Grey paced the floors of his one-bedroom, 2nd story apartment. His fingers were tapping nervously against his sides as he paced back and forth, going over the outcomes in his head.

One: he could confront Claire about it, steal her power, and hope that she survives the torturous experience he would have to use to get what he wants.

Two: he could completely avoid her, maybe even leave town. That way he would in no way find himself in the area of temptation. After all, her power was just so..._deliscious. _

He shook his head; _No I can't think like that, I have to stop, I swore that I would try to be normal again! _He tugged at his dark, now messy hair, hoping to relieve some stress on himself.

His eyes suddenly snapped open.

Three: he could tell Claire everything he's gone through, everything he's done, and ask her to forgive him and help him get over this. Look to her as a friend first, and a possible lover later. Well, he wanted her_ now, _but she was only seventeen so it just wasn't going to happen yet. Even on perfectly mutual standings, just dating her would be illegal.

He scoffed; _dating_, that stupid, immature word used to express filial romantic events of extreme idiocracy and teenage hormones. Never once had he been fond of dating. Fond of having someone to love, yes, but dating? No.

Flopping tiredly onto his lazy-boy, he sighed deeply, hoping to exhale his stress. If only it was that easy. Trying to battle the other side of him was a daily struggle; that monsterous, ravenous, animalistic side that craved power and would stop at nothing to get it. Gabriel had been trying so hard to keep it down, to harness _'Sylar'. _

Sylar was what he called himself when he was a killer, the man he was when he oh-so easily sliced the tops of peoples heads off telekinetically, just to steal their abilities.

Gabriel had to believe that was the side of him that wanted to rip the top of Claire's skull off and devulge in her powers, he blamed Sylar for these cravings. If Gabriel gave in to Sylar, he knew that Claire would be easily kidnapped, pulled into his apartment, and ravaged right there.

Well, Gabriel wanted her, but he would never kidnap her. Sylar would, but not him.

If only Claire knew he wasn't just a simple, nerdy art teacher. Gabriel was now determined to choose option three, slowly tell Claire of his past issues and hope that she'll welcome him...and maybe in time even love him. He really was tired of eating alone.

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After nearly having to knock herself out to get to sleep, Claire managed to get about five hours in before mom woke her up around eight. She groaned, _why now? It's so early! _"Whaaaat?" covering her head with a pillow to block out the sunlight now piercing her eyes.

"Claire, I know it's Saturday and way too early to be up, but your dad is out for the weekend to a confrence and I need you to do some errands for me while I take Mr. Muggles to the vet. I was just waking you up now so you can start getting ready to leave, take your time, but start getting up." her mom smiled then shut the door, leaving Claire to drag herself from bed.

If only she knew that Claire had only slept half a wink the night before, maybe then she would be taking _her_ to get a full out spa treatment instead of _Mr. Muggles_.

She hobbled over to the bathroom, showered, got dressed, and walked down stairs to grab something small to eat before she left. One blueberry muffin and a cup of coffee later, Claire was grabbing her keys and walking out the front door.

_Ten in the morning on a Saturday morning...seriously, I should still be sleeping!_ She mentally groaned, backing out of the driveway and turning towards town.

First stop, her work to pick up some papers. After that she went to the second stop, the sports goods store to pick up her brothers new, ordered baseball bat and glove. After those two stops she just had to run to the supermarket and buy groceries for the entire week. _Wow, what a grand Saturday fun time. I _should_ be at home sitting on the couch, watching Pride & Prejudice like I wanted to today. Poo. _

Grabbing one of the half-rusted carts, Claire walked into Walmart and started with the list her mother handed her, one that looked like it needed a cart just to carry.

Her weariness from her lack of sleep and her focus on shopping distracted her from remembering _why_ she slept so poorly. If only now, she felt numb to all of it, knowing full well that as soon as she slept better she would have to deal with the reality of it all.

Finally getting near the end of that atrocious list, she turned onto the bread isle to find her mothers choice 100% wheat and be done with it. Just as she reached for it, a hand reached up for one beside her at the same time. Her reaction time poor because of her tiredness, she looked over slowly, blinked a few times, then stammered backwards into her cart.

"G-Gabriel." she gripped the cart, ready to dart away from him as soon as possible. He seemed _way_ too calm to her.

He put up a hand, "Whoa, settle, it's okay."

She shook her head, "No, it's not, I have to leave, I have to go, I have to.."

He put up a finger to hush her, instantly shutting her mouth telekinetically. She felt something close her mouth but assumed that her body was just obeying him without her thinking about it. She would never assume him to have powers as well.

"Claire, listen, we need to talk. When you're done shopping for your family, I need to speak with you in private." he let her mouth go, "Okay?"

She stretched her jaw a little bit, feeling it loosen again. Staring at him carefully, she felt this was probably the chance she needed to ask him what he wanted in exchange for the information on her ability. She nodded, "Fine, where?"

He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her, noting how she paused before taking it. "That's my address. After you're done helping your mother, come over. Use whatever excuse you feel necessary."

She nodded slowly, giving him a raised eyebrow and obviously frightened glare.

He sighed, realizing what she was thinking without even having to read her mind. _I don't even need that ability from that stupid, fat cop back in New York to see what she's thinking. _"Don't worry, I'm not trying to 'buy you', Claire. Just...come over, alright?"

She made an obvious sigh of relief, "Right, okay. I'll go do that then." and without another word, took her cart and hastened to the check-out.

He rubbed his temples, squeezing his eyes shut, "_Women_..." he whispered with a frusterated tone. Grabbing the few things he needed, seeing as how he was the only one living at his apartment, he went to the check-out a good ten minutes after Claire had already left.

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Claire stomped on the gas peddle, practically holding it down the entire way home. She found herself to be not only nervous about meeting up with Gabriel later, but also...slightly _excited_. She knew it sounded crazy, because he was just going to use this as excuse to blackmail her. At least, that's what she was assuming.

Her mother watched her as they unpacked the groceries and put them away. Sandra noted her hastey actions and apparent distracted thoughts. "Something on your mind?" she asked, after they were finally finished.

Claire's attention snapped back, "Uh-um, no. Not really."

Sandra's eyebrow was a good inch higher than normal, "Is that so? Because you seem pretty distracted. I had to move the eggs from the meat container after you put them there..."

_Oh, crap. Did I do that?_ "Sorry mom, guess I am a little distracted." time for the excuse, "Actually...I was hoping to be able to go to the mall, do you mind?"

Sandra shrugged, "No, not at all. Geeze Claire if you wanted to go to the mall so badly that you were _that _distracted you just have to ask!"

Claire smiled and side-hugged her mom, "Thanks, see you later!" grabbing her keys and rushing out the door. She tried to maintain a less-elated composure, but was having a hard time keeping down her anxiety.

_He's my teacher. He's at least ten years older than me. He's trying to blackmail me. _Why_ am I so interested in him?! _She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her eyes both on the road and the little piece of paper in front of her. It had his address on it. She already knew where that apartment complex was, but because of all the stress felt she might forget. It was good to hold onto the paper just in case. _Not because I have a crush on my teacher and would like to keep something he wrote on, no, no no no. _Not_ me._

Ten minutes later, she pulled up into the parking lot. The apartments were small, but definitely not ugly. She parked and turned off the engine, but didn't get out. Pulling down the visor, she checked her makeup. After all, she had been running on five hours of sleep and doing errands all day, at least be polite and look good, right?

She checked the time just before getting out; it was four in the afternoon. She would go in, find out what he wanted, then leave. Maybe stop by the mall and buy something, just to be convincing to her mom.

After getting out of her car, she slowly made her way up to the second floor and looked for the number on her paper. The room wasn't hard to find, only a few doors left of the staircase. She stood in front without knocking, knowly fully well that once she did she would have no more chances.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Claire attempted to steady herself as she rapped at the door. Part of her wished he wasn't home yet.

She heard a bit of rustling from inside and a few seconds later the door flew open. Gabriel smiled lightly at her, giving a slight nod, "Come in." then stood back, holding the door open. _Like a perfect gentlemen_, she thought bitterly.

His apartment was nothing special, but it wasn't terrible. She found herself examining the things on the walls, the way everything was so perfectly organized, and most importantly...how it _smelled_. She loved it, despite her mind warning her not to enjoy any of this. The smell of his apartment was deep, musky, and had ting of what smelled like a strong, bitter chocolate.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her made Claire jump back into reality. She turned to face him, trying her best to look adult, mature, and like she knew what she was doing.

He stood a foot away from her, arms folded across his chest. He was wearing his thick, nerdy glasses, but she could still tell that he was cross-examining her every facial expression. So she stood as still as possible, making her face cold and distant. After a few moments of silence he made a deep sound in his throat then sighed, releasing his arms, "So, how do you like my home, Claire?"

She blinked a few times, "It's...nice...I guess. But that's not what I'm here about." she shifted on her feet, standing now with_ her _arms crossed. "I'm here to find out what it is you want in order to keep quiet about my...problem."

His thick brows furrowed, "What you do, Claire, is not a problem. It's a gift." then motioned her to sit after he took a spot in his lazy-boy.

She sat down stiffly on the couch, not taking her look away from him. "How is_ this _a gift? I can't get hurt, yay me. My bones grow back almost instantly, _yay me_."

"There are others out there with gifts like yours; there are also others with abilities completely different." his tone was serious yet careful, "There are so _many_ wonderful powers out there."

Her eyes were wide, obvious surprise wracking her features, "What?! There's other people out there like me?! Where?"

He nodded and folded his hands together, "Yes, lot's of them. I don't really know where they are," he lied, "But I wanted you to come here to tell you...I'm not going to 'spill the beans'."

She sat back a little bit more on the couch, a lump getting stuck in her throat, "Y-You're not? What do you want in return?"

Then he did something she didn't expect. A smile crept onto his face, one that spoke of the same danger she had presumed him to have back in the hallway at school. It looked so eriee, so _powerful_; his eyes practically _screamed_ murder.

Her heart rate sped almost instantly, her palms sweating. She waited for him to answer, but he just continued to smile at her, almost like she was his prey, something he had finally cornered and was ready to devour.

She watched as he lifted one hand lithely, spun his pointer finger upward in a swift, smooth motion. Not knowing exactly what that meant she just cocked an eyebrow up. His gaze motioned towards something beside her. She turned her head slowly, not prepared for what she saw.

A coffee cup floated a good foot off the table beside her, spinning slowly beside her. She scooted away from it quickly, mumbling a curse as she did from the shock.

She looked at him in fear, "W-What? Is that...are you..._what?!_"

His grin grew wider, "We are very, _very_ similar Claire Bennett."

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**Bum bum baaaaaaaaaaaaah. We all expected that one. **

**Lookie there I got you guys another long chapter. Is that nice or what? I like it. **

**Now I know some of you are going to ask, "Why was he so timid at first and is getting all evil now?" Ehh, his timidity was more or less just how he was acting (you know, he's always been good at that, acting) to look like a nerdy art teacher. He's still scary, though he is trying to surpress his 'urges'. **

**Hmm. Nobody really reviewed last time...is this a terrible story? Sigh.  
**


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